


Blank

by melchizedek



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2015 - Freeform, Angst, Drug Use, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Existential Crisis, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Might add youtubers however it fits my purpose, Minor Character Death, No Smut, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Slow Burn, this is the result of sleep deprivation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6928213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchizedek/pseuds/melchizedek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Depression is a hole that threatens to hollow out Dan Howell's heart as he struggles to cope with the bitter reality of this seemingly bleak universe. He finds a new friend, then, with sympathies and hope for being less alone. Would they help him see how he was never alone to begin with?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Under The Tree

Daniel Howell was violently thrown out of yet another sadistic nightmare. The sharp pains in his lower abdomen sent him jumping out of the bed, stumbling and stabbing his left side into the corner of the ancient piano. It caused the high notes to sing loudly against his own dismay.

“AGH!” He exclaimed, his vision hadn’t focused properly yet, and his bladder was purposely trying to agonise his waking experience. _’What the hell?’_ He thought, bitterly. He didn’t think he needed any more action tonight; his dream was unnecessarily generous in that regard.

He sprinted  ~~limped~~ towards the bathroom, passing by what he thought was the kitchen. Though, vision was something he struggled with in the dimness of the hallways and—quite frankly—the **too-many-stairs**. His disturbed and half-conscious mind focused only on the bathroom, which meant he also forgot how long and painful the stairs were if he fell into them. He missed footing and—miraculously—slammed his sides to the adjacent wall. He shrieked in pain but his bladder was not having any of it, and he resentfully continued his harsh long journey to Mordor. He was sincerely hoping that Phil wasn’t already awake by the ruckus he was making as he dramatically flayed towards the door, slamming it shut and involuntarily staring into Niall’s eyes.

He felt awkward, ashamed and highly disgusted with himself. Why the hell did they need to defecate anyway? Was that nature’s way of reminding him how much of a biological mistake he was compared to the sun? He needed not such a reminder, thank you very much. The sun may not have intelligence, but at least it keeps its shit to itself, relatively speaking.

He was painfully aware of humanity’s insignificance as a species, and how meaningless everything was at the end of the day. No, he was not having an existential crisis at 4AM in the morning. That only serves to be worse as he was currently ejaculating a baby rather than his breakfast. Yes, breakfast, he didn’t really eat that day. Thank the lord his name wasn’t Yazi. He’ll need to give his mother a trophy for getting ‘cut up like a side of beef,’ or any woman for that matter.

He was blinking rapidly, hands on his bare lap with his head bowed down. He stared into the ceramic floor, slightly lit by the fading bathroom light. _’We need to change that’_. Now that his ass was on Zeus’ throne, he can indeed produce words more eloquent than ‘FUCK’ and ‘SHIT’. He had to admit, both were kind of on-point. He could have sworn that the dark was getting worse, but he didn’t wait for his suspicions to be confirmed. He hastily washed himself and stood up, forgetting the door and slamming head-first into Zain’s massive forehead. He yelped, perhaps louder than was necessary. But hey, he felt like crap. He needn’t justify his lack of masculinity at this ungodly hour.

“Dan?” He heard from upstairs. Did he hit his head _that_ hard?

“Pffff— Wh-WUT?” He stuttered, his forehead must have a giant purple lump. It’d better have, he needed a battle wound to match his manly battle cries.

“Jesus, what on Earth are you doing?” He heard footsteps and annoyed groaning descending down the stairs, ‘ _great_.’ “Why are you making so much noise? It 4 bloody AM—“

“Phil,” He interrupted, stepping out of the bathroom and sending his flatmate a warning glare. “Fuck. Off.” He snapped. He was not dealing with this, not now. He didn’t want to see anybody, much less his faceless friend.

Phil noticed the irritation and his angry features softened, placing a palm gently on his best friend’s forearm. “I’m sawry— _Sorry,_ Dan.” He said, chuckling at his own verbal impairment. Dan didn’t smile. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he pushed Phil’s hands off of him, sporting the best fake smile he could muster. It made him look quite constipated, but to be fair, he wasn’t trying THAT hard. “I need to sleep, see you tomorrow.” He finished.

Before Phil could say anything, he pushed through the stairs up towards the hallway to the rooms. The hallway felt narrower, longer, and most horridly unsafe. The silence was deafening, and the dark engulfed his very being, eating him alive. Not registering the looming figure right behind him, he actually _ran_ like his life depended on it. He reached the bedroom at last, feeling itchy down on his ankles. As if the girl from The Grudge could grab them at any second. His room was a safe zone, right? _’Right.’_

He walked like a zombie, looked like a zombie and suspected he sounded like one by Phil’s reaction earlier. ’ _Lovely_ ,’ he thought. Scratching his ass as he collapsed onto the bed. He felt exasperated. ‘ _I wish the ground would split asunder and drag me into the depths of a secret underground ocean full of sharks_.’

He kept thinking, pondering. He shouldn’t think about it, but fuck his sleeping for now. He can think if he wanted to.

‘ _Why does it hurt to exist_?’

‘ _Why can’t I just… Not exist, at will_?’

‘ _Do I even have a will_?’ He considered, it often seemed like many things happened to him without his consent. Like birth.

But, that was normal. It was something he had to live with. He knew it, but he couldn’t help but feel powerless and insignificant. Like an ant that gets constantly stomped on by the useless rules of society. It is not as if its bad enough that we’re forced to lead a life that will inevitably end with death—because whither it’s painful or not, it’s still death nonetheless—no, they also had to strive to earn money, pay taxes, find a girlfriend, raise a child, pay more taxes, fight diseases and many more for **nothing.** ‘ _It will all cease to exist._ ’ The people you affect will cease to exist. Their children and grandchildren and all of humanity will one day cease to exist. And if you think your foot prints will remain, who do you think will see them? Luke Skywalker? ‘ _Nobody!’_ Even if you don’t care—so as long as they exist—the earth will one day turn into nothingness. The universe is not immortal. One day, the energy of the heavens will be lost and shall slow down enough to disintegrate into the void.

‘ _Whats the point, then_?’

Emptiness.

‘ _Why do something that won’t make any difference_?’

Chocking.

‘ _Why write a book that has no real significance?_ ’

Tears, claws sheets.

‘ _Who cares if I don’t upload my video tomorrow_?’

Losing breath.

‘ _Who actually gets help from my Internet Support Group_?’

Falling.

‘ _What’s the point in helping them anyway_?’

Hurting.

‘ _Why do YouTube in the first place_?’

Hitting the bottom.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t sleep that night. This is how it always happened: He’d think too much about something, fall into a spiral of self-loathing nothingness, and end up crying until he can’t produce tears anymore. ‘ _It’s okay, I’m used to it. Aren’t I_?’ He didn’t know. It felt like his existential crisis episodes—He decided to name them ECEs for short—were getting more frequent and infinitely worse every time. He’s finding it harder to wake up in the morning. None of the ‘Wuss’ crap, he doesn’t mind being a wuss anymore.

‘ _Wow_ ,’ he’d gotten really far down this time.

He glanced up, dragging his feet towards his door again. Maybe a distraction will do? It was 6AM somehow, and he hadn’t anything to lose.

He took his coat and slowly paced to the front door, ‘ _no sound_.’ He ruffled his hair and opened the door, walking into the young light of the sun.

The breeze was gentle on his buffed face, and he knew he looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot from crying, with dark bags under them from lack of sleep. He didn’t bother fixing his Hobbit hair before he went out either. He needed to look like crap and let others know that he felt like crap too. No smiling to strangers, no teletubby sun. Not that many were up anyway, the streets were as busy as a graveyard. He enjoyed that, the last thing he needed was the sight of another human.

He walked in a daze, not having any real destination. He should do this kind of aimless wondering more often. It was more refreshing than the sofa crease, he admitted. London was quiet for a change, the sun wasn’t bright either. He didn’t think he could handle that. He ended up in a park he didn’t know was there, or maybe he did. He definitely never set foot on this road before, and parks in London were as big as they can get away with. His Phone was in his coat pocket, did he take it with him? He could hardly remember. But at least he had his headphones as well. He threaded his hands through it, scrolling down his music library with his dominant one.

_Mad World_

He hadn’t heard it in years, since he last saw _Donnie Darko._ “Good movie…” He muttered. He played it, and let the subtle melody wash over him under the watch of the young purple sky above his head.

_All around me are familiar faces,_

_Worn out places, worn out faces._

He squinted his eyes slightly, taking in how accurate the lyrics are to his mood. He wondered why he didn’t listen to this more often.

_Hello teacher tell me, what’s my lesson_?

_Look right through me, look right through me_

He floated through the park, finding a remote tree far in the corner of the green vicinities. He sat there, staring up the ancient branches as the faded light tried to pass through the leaves onto his face. He feels a lump reside in the superior of his throat, ‘ _chocking again_.’

_And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad,_

_The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had._

He closed his eyes, feeling the urge to let it all out. Soft liquid was forming under his eyelids. He did not want this, he wanted to stop feeling.

_I find it hard to tell you_ ,

_I find it hard to take_

_When people run in circles it’s a very, very_ —

“Mad world.” He sighed, letting the tears trace down his face. He’s free to cry, he’s free to weep if he wanted. He felt good doing it somewhere nobody could see him, somewhere everything else can.

He scratched his arms, ‘ _itchy_.’

 

* * *

 

 

“Excuse me?” He glanced up, suddenly aware that the sun had gotten more intense. How long was he laying here?

“Uhh, yes?” He replied stupidly, a yawn escaping as he stretched his arms outwards. He checked his phone , 8AM. ‘ _I fell asleep… great_.’

“Well, are you okay?” She asked, the other brunette seemed to scan his appeal. It made him feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah yeah, peachy.” He dismissed. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, sir, I was concerned someone was going to burglar you.” The brunette replied. She was young, 14 maybe. She was crouching next to him now. She sounded like him when he was a child, kinda posh. “Why are you sleeping here?”

“Feels good.” Dan replied, “shouldn’t you be at school?” He could tell he annoyed her by saying that, but it was strange for her to be waking people up in a park first thing in the morning.

“Maybe… but thats not fun at all. I don’t see the point in school.” She frowned, and was he going to teach her about the importance of school after he’d dropped out? Unbelievable.

“I don’t either.” He said, honestly. “But, it does make you qualified for a job, which ensures things like food and shelter. You know, things that keep you alive?”

“That would depend on if I want to stay alive or not.”

He looked at her, properly, for the first time. Her face was as tired as he felt he was. He could see it in her eyes. She had eyes as brown as his, and a fine young face lined with fatigue. She wore a black dress that draped over her skinny form and ended on her knees, clearly not a school uniform. Dan didn’t concern himself with making her feel better though, she obviously didn’t either. Maybe this is an opportunity?

“I suppose. Not that either would make that much of a difference really.” There, be neutral.

She sat next to him, her knees drawn under her chin, curiously looking at him with a weird glint in her eyes.

“They don’t?” She said, mistake. Did he over estimate the situation?

He decided not to run around the bush, he should be worried about how uncaring he’s becoming lately. “Not to the universe, or any immortal.”

She stared at him, a smile breaking on her face. She let out a brief breathy laugh and turned her body around to face him; he did the same, without the laughing. “Too true!”

“Tell you what,” she started. “If you tell me why you were _really_ sleeping here, I’ll tell you why I’m not at school.” She said. Was she seriously trying to compromise? ‘ _Oh well_.’

“Sure, you go first.”

“Thats not fair!” She pouted, trying to phase him with puppy eyes.

“Ladies are always first.”

“Exactly.”

“Oi!” He exclaimed, a smirk forming on both their lips. “I’ll have you know I’m _very_ manly.”

“Even when you’re woken up like a sleeping beauty among flowers under a giant tree?” She raised an eyebrow, she had a point.

“Especially then.”

“Fine. But alas, I need more than that!”

_’The hell?’_

“Such as?”

“Why you’re wearing grey pyjama pants and slippers under your fancy coat.”

“Oh.” He finally saw the state he was in, he wasn’t aware of the mess until now. Dan widened his eyes and scurried onto his feet, adjusting his clothes and realising he cannot change how helpless he looked. She was clearly amused with his act, chuckling as he swiped his fingers across his scalp. He sat down again, having given up on looking good. Fuck it, basically. He could still rock looking like crap.

“We’ll see about that.” He finally said.

“Great! Well, I’m Nina, Nina O’Brian. And you are?”

“Dan Howell.”

“Well, Dan. I don’t know you, and we probably won’t meet again, so I’m going to be completely honest with you so you can go and have a decent bath. Here I go.” She turned away and laid her back against the tree. He listened to her sigh, and the sound of her breath along with the rustles of the leaves against each other as the breeze catches up.

“I’m listening.” He muttered softly, giving her cue to start.

“Right.” She sighed again. “I’m… being bullied, and my mum and dad don’t believe me.”

Well, he didn’t expect that.

“Why won’t they believe you?”

“Why? Because they think I’m going through a teenage phase of depression! I mean, I am, but it’s not because of hormones. Its because people treat me like crap at school just because I like reading, and my own parents think I’m just trying to skip school instead of help me! I have friends, and they’re all wonderful. But some jerks won’t give you the light of day, and it all feels grey. What they say kinda hurts.” She shook her head furiously, digging her fingers into the patch of dirt between them. _’At least she has a reason to be sad. _’__

“And you thought coming here in secret was going to make things better?” He replied, instantly regretting how harsh that must have sounded.

“Like you’re the one to talk, Master Baggins.”

“Touché.”

“So… whats your story?”

He wondered if he should really tell her. On one hand, he had nothing to lose. Like she said, this is a random encounter, he probably would not see her again. It wouldn’t matter if she knew, and it might make him feel less burdened. But on the other hand, what if he makes her aware of something she hadn’t thought about before, much like his viewers that discovered the existential crisis through him? Maybe it isn’t fair.

But, he might die tomorrow, and she might die tomorrow too. There’s not much to lose.

“Have you ever heard of an existential crisis before?” She nodded, bless the queen. “Yeah well, lets say it started getting really bad lately, and yesterday was another breaking point.”

“Is that why you said nothing matters?”

“Yup,” he said, popping the ‘P’ as he did so. “This is all pointless really, there’s no point in doing anything. My career, my relationships, my health… its all for an expensive casket buried underground.”

He looked up. It was hard saying these things, it was hard formulating them into coherent words. They felt real, and they sounded real. And there she was, a listener. Someone to dump the crap on all he wants and he’s tempted. Tempted to say more and more. He decided to go for it.

“It’s like… I can hardly enjoy doing anything lately. I have the perfect job mind you, and great friends. A best friend even. I have money and a snazzy apartment. Sorry, don’t mean to brag—“ He looks over at her apologetically, “—and, there’s no reason for me to be upset. And I’m not upset over my life.”

“But you feel insignificant. Like, you don’t matter at all. That nothing you do matters. Even though you have friends, you feel lonelier everyday. You can’t find the motivation to wake up everyday, and it’s haunting you. It’s eating you alive.” She finished.

“Yeah… that.” He gaped at her, surprised at how accurate she was.

She gave him a knowing look. “Mhmm, yes. I… understand.”

She _understands._

They both make their way back to where they belong. She to her school, and he to his flat. Both smiling as they know they’re not completely alone.


	2. The Nina Verse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here a few points that needs clarification:
> 
> 1\. Keep in mind when you're reading that what a character thinks about someone or something may not be true. I don't use impressions as announcement tools. Just like reality, our perceptions can be misleading. So just because Dan thinks Nina is 14, that doesn't mean she is. That's just what he THINKS.
> 
> 2\. If you were confused about the punctuation and quotation marks, here's how they work for me:
> 
> Italics/bold for emphasis, Italics+single quotation for thoughts, and normal double quotation for actual dialogue. 
> 
> This chapter is a background check on Nina, I do think its necessary to set that stage for her. But don't worry, things do take off from here. Enjoy!

Nina hardly expected anything out of the corpse passed out under her secret hideout, but she figured if he had a coat as expensive as that, he wouldn’t be a hobo. Or maybe he stole it… whatever. Dan Howell was an interesting hobo. He was obviously crying prior to her arrival, and it seemed he wasn’t aware of how completely wrecked his attire was. It was rather cute actually, seeing him fumble with his dirty clothes and messy hair. But he was much older than her… of course, he had to be, with her luck. She clicked her tongue, ‘ _too bad_.’

Nina, ‘ _17 if you’d believe it,_ ’ found it hard to adjust in the sorry excuse of a school her parents put her in after they moved from America. They’d been travelling for the past two years, never really settling anywhere. Scandalised by young adult fiction, she realised that forming ‘everlasting friendships’ or fleeting romances were not actually as accessible in the real world. No, in every new school it was the same people with diverse names. Bullies, or rather, lifeless hormone-driven _dickheads_. She would have pitied them if she hadn’t the urge to blast them with a grenade.

Though to be fair, her friends Kelly and Martin were wonderful exceptions. They talked to her when no one else had, and tried to comfort her when things were mostly sour. They had relatively the same interests, except, they were into this YouTube fandom thing she hardly cared about. Though, even with her friends, she couldn’t help but think their encouragements were both empty and repetitive. They didn’t understand why Nina was so often upset. They’d think it was the bullying, but thats not it completely. The bullying is a number among many symbols and signs. It did not encompass her sorrow, it just made it worse.

Dan had understood. He understood how lonely _feels_ like. She wouldn’t doubt him for a second. Hell, she’d vouch for him being in a much worse emotional state than she was. It seemed like it was a normal thing he accepted, but never got to cope with. She’d been only truly depressed for the last couple of years, when she began high school. Who knows how long Daniel was depressed. Did he realise that he was depressed, even? ‘ _Good lord_.’

But that was over, they both went their way and they will never cross roads again unless by some miracle. ‘ _I wish I asked him for his twitter account at least… Wait_.’ She knows his name, why not look him up on twitter? Chances are he has his name spelled out. She hopes it’s not a weird nickname like **@Ninalicious**. ‘ _Ahem_.’

She was sat in Starbucks, holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate with cream on top. It was a particularly cloudy day and her friends thought it fun to hang out and drink some hot beverages. She didn’t argue with that. Kelly was happy about some book coming out on October.

“Oh my GOD NINA! The trailer was AMAZING!” She looked like a chipmunk. “I was like, WHAT? WHEN? HOW? WHY DIDN’T—“

“Yeah yeah…” Nina replied distractedly, not really listening to the conversation. She opened twitter and typed ‘Dan Howell’. There, nice and simple. _Click._

**@danisnotonfire.**

‘ _Is that him_?’

**“i make videos about how awkward i am and people laugh at me”**

‘ _Ahh, alright_ …’

**Followers: 2.75M**

“Excuse me?!” She said, _out loud._ Her eyes widening in surprise. That can’t be the guy she saw on the dirt this morning! Except, they do have the same face…

“What’s wrong Neen?” Martin asked, shooting a worried look that says ‘ _are you out of your mind?_ ’

“Oh no, nothing.” ‘ _Media, immediately_.’

**“we’ve written a book and we’re going on tour!! here’s—”**

“Neen. Why are you looking at Dan’s twitter account?”

“What?” She ripped her eyes from the screen, looking at a grinning combo of red faced teenagers, evidently ready to blast. “Do you know him? Is he like, famous or something?”

“Are you kidding me…” She didn’t appreciate the look of pity Martin was throwing her way, but she had to admit that was sort of a stupid question.

She grabbed her earphones and clicked on the video. She needed to make sure, although, it was more like reassurance than confirmation.

Merely seconds into the video, she was in shock.

_ ‘Who the  _ **hell** _ is this?’ _

“Hey Kel…” She started, her voice cracking a bit. Because what the hell? This happy go-lucky person isn’t the same Dan Howell she met this morning. And THAT Dan Howell was real. Even though this one seemed real too.

“Yes, Neen?”

“Tell me more about this _Dan_ fellow.”

 

* * *

 

The last thing she expected was that her secret hobo man was an Internet celebrity and a successful BBC Radio host. Is the universe playing a joke on her? She _met_ someone literally _millions_ were willing to pay to see in the flesh. She met an _occult leader_ and didn’t even realise it.

‘ _Why did he talk to me? Did he pity me_?’

…No, whether it was the guy in the screen or the guy she met this morning, Daniel wasn’t the kind to lie out of pity. She could tell. But he also didn’t look like a depressed guy, so maybe she couldn’t tell.

‘ _What does that mean? He lives with depression and pretends to be happy in public_?’

The thought made her really uncomfortable.

She had seen him in a state he didn’t want people that knew him to see. Nobody went to that corner of the park, it was always empty. No, this is huge. Maybe it isn’t her place, but someone has to care. She knows, or at least partially knows, how this man feels. Not only does he feel lonely and unfulfilling, he feels the pressure to keep an image to millions of people all across the world. If today was any indication to the future, one day running away isn’t going to be enough. He _will_ break. He lives with someone that he doesn’t open up with enough to talk about it, and maybe thats the issue.

Why doesn’t he talk to Phil?

Clearly, from what Kelly said about them, they had been friends for 7 years! The few clips and videos she watched of them together show a great deal of love and appreciation that _little wonder_ other people ship them. And, on top of that, they live together. It must be extremely stressful having to hide distress or refrain from talking and she’s positive Phillip must have **at least** suspected something is wrong.

This isn’t right, why is he holding back?

_’You’re not exactly honest with your friends and family either.’_

True.

_’Maybe he just doesn’t realise he needs help, maybe he thinks he just has to deal with it. Maybe… He doesn’t see Phil as an option.’_

Does Nina have options too?

 

* * *

 

“MOM!”

“Yes, honey?” Her mother replied while baking cookies in the kitchen. Nina decided to help Dan if she ever got to meet him again, but before that, she has to fix her situation as well. Its funny how the thing that motivated her to confront her parents was how she wanted to help someone else besides her. She smiled at that. Hopefully, it will go well.

Nina carefully made her way past the dinner table to the kitchen counter where her mother stood, sliding her hands across the specs of flour spilled on the side. She chuckled at that, her mother wasn’t the best oriented when it came to baking.

“Mom, I need to talk to you and Dad, its very important actually. It’s about school—“

“Oh Nina— CHARLIE COME HERE!” Her mother called after her father, “Not again Nina, we’re not changing your school because you don’t want to—“

“Stop it.” She interrupted, she wasn’t going to let this turn into another bitchy fight where her opinions aren’t even mentioned. “When Dad comes, we’ll talk properly. Please don’t jump into conclusions, mom. This is important for me. Okay?”

“Talk about what?” Her father said. Her father was a gentle soul, much like her mother, if a bit sterner.

The girl took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she tried to collect her words into coherent sentences. She was not remotely nervous to reveal this to a stranger, but she remembered how nervous Daniel was when he spoke about his problems with her. Is this how he felt, coming clean about something he never shared with anyone? “This isn’t about me not wanting to attend school. This is me telling you why I’m reluctant to go in the first place.”

“Oh?” Her father said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“And why are you telling us now?” He mother said.

“Because someone I know is going through a lot, and I can’t aid them and expect them to open up unless I do it myself first. That would be hypocritical.”

Her father studied her for a moment, perhaps he didn’t expect this sort of answer coming from their hormonic teenage daughter. He then smiled, and urged her to continue.

She told them.

She cried.

And, it _hurt._

Her mother reaches out for her, draping her arms around her skinny daughter as her eyes forced buckets of tears out against her own will.

“Its okay, honey. We understand.” Her father said, his gentle voice soothing her as he planted a kiss on her damp cheeks.

_’They understand.’_

That’s all that matters. She just needed to be clean about it, if she had, maybe there wouldn’t have been any issues.

‘ _We always complicate things more than necessary_.’

Trying to solve an equation with a million theories rather than a few numbers.

‘ _We see the easy option as_ ** _taboo_** _because it requires the most blunt of efforts and social conduct_.’

But thats how reality is, it is blunt. Maybe that is what Daniel needs, someone to tell him it is okay to be blunt like the universe. Daniel might have issues more than she knows, she hardly knows the guy, and he might need more than ‘coming clean’ to fix his issues. However, it is a step. Letting people know what is wrong enables them to help when they can, especially those they care about.

She needs not to make Phil aware of Dan’s problems, she needs Dan to be aware of Phil’s presence.

‘ _Good plan_.’

She will keep quiet, she will not expose him. But, how can she meet him? Her only hope is to visit the park over and over again till he’s there.

’ _Maybe he will never appear, maybe he’ll never show his face ever again. Who fucking cares, I will wait. It’s worth it. He gave me hope, I need to give it back. I can do something worth my heartbeat for once_.’

 


	3. Fire Sparks

Days pass like fire sparks, fleeting and typically uneventful. Fading into a painful gloom that make the streets of London as exciting as Airstrip One. He wondered if Britain actually turned into that without the obvious naming scheme.

Past the angry business men and the general pissed off underground British population, Dan found himself in a very unlikable situation. He felt a paradox of emotions threatening to wind him up in a way quite irreversible.

Basically, he felt like shit, and he couldn’t tell anyone because they won’t understand and he’ll most definitely feel worse from the experience.

It had been two weeks since his breakdown and his visit to the park. He hadn’t gone back that way again. Not because he hadn’t had any urges to seek a sense of escapism from his dull reality, but more like the fear of getting caught made him ‘stick to the table.'

But that was not important as he strolled down the pavement to the bus stop. It was always as if he was wearing the Ring of power. He was invisible, and his world turned slow and colourless. Except unlike the Ring, he couldn’t hear anything. There was white noise everywhere, blocking his senses and disconnecting him from the physical world.

He wondered why he always feels down, it didn’t make much sense. He had a wonderful life, there was nothing to be sad about.

‘ _But you feel insignificant. Like, you don’t matter at all. That nothing you do matters_.’

She was surprisingly on point.

Nina O’Brian, he didn’t forget her name. She listened to his first-world idiocy and called it understandable. She found it relatable. Being so young, he wondered what was wrong with the world to make someone as young as her understand the concept of loneliness and despair.

There’s an ongoing battle in his head, Phil wouldn’t understand that. Even if he did, he doesn’t wish to burden his friend with this nonsense. Their friendship was easy and fun, and Phil truly was sometimes a ray of sunshine. But he’ll be damned if he stained their friendship with his own depression.

‘ _You know,_ ’ someone in his mind said. ‘ _Even if you feel disgusted with the world, your existence is too fleeting and insignificant for the world to give a shit about your opinions_.’

“Well jee, thanks.” He mumbled in response.

‘ _No, I mean it. Who cares if you get drunk all night or jump off a bridge?_ ’

“Well, I do.”

‘ _Why_?’

“Because I don’t want to ruin my fleeting existence?”

‘ _Why not? Are you asking for sympathy from atoms?_ ’

“No, I’m not! I’m just saying just because in the end it doesn’t matter, doesn’t mean I have the right to just do whatever with no concern over my health or others.”

‘ _Yes you do, who wrote the rules and rights_?’

“Uhh, the government? Plus, whats fun about ruining my life?”

‘ _Freedom? Having an outlet for your depression? You’re not ruining your life by jumping off a bridge, are you? That’s rhetorical FYI. Yes, the government; would THEY care if you secretly did this or that? Don’t you remember saying: People shouldn’t judge others for things that don’t affect them, and are non of their damned business? Why did you say that?_ ’

“Because… Because we’re random. We can’t dictate a reality if reality isn’t dictate-able. We each have our own versions of reality.”

‘ _Which means even if you jump off a bridge, it wouldn’t matter_.’

“My friends will… Phil will be upset.” He answered, quite hesitantly.

‘ _And_?’

“And what?”

‘ _If their concern is important enough to contribute meaning, then why are you feeling like shit_?’

“Because you keep talking about it!” He shouted, earning a couple of terrified and confused stares from those walking past his inclined form. He put his hood on. The last thing he needed was for people to call the police on him shouting at himself.

Though, his invisible friend had a point. Does anything _really_ matter then? If we apply the logic of the universe and its randomness on every social and non-social aspect of life then suddenly… everything seems pointless. Which means, he doesn’t have to come back to the flat tonight.

Why not have a night out? What’s the worse that could happen?

‘ _You could get mugged or killed. If it was going to happen to anyone, it would be you_.’ His mind supplied.

As if that was a bad thing? He could look forward to the expensive casket or the hospital. At least he might decrease the crowdedness of the tube, or give a nurse the excuse to earn her pay check. Either way, it makes his existence more worthwhile than this.

Yes, it was the freedom that really frightened him.

That fear was once enough to stop him on his tracks, now? No. He needed to numb the constant itch on his arm. It hurts, everything hurts. He admits that it hurts, he accepts that it hurts. But he won’t tolerate it. He will do anything to stop it, its about time he did. Who gives a shit about health? He has the freedom, all he needs is the method.

‘ _Getting drunk will do, for now_.’

 

* * *

 

He strolled through the busy streets and under the neon signs of the bars and the night clubs about him. Time now rushed by him like the girls holding their high-heels in their manicured hands. One of them gave Dan a cheeky wink, he blushed.

It was nice, nicer than he thought it would be. With every step he breaks another secret unwritten law. He doesn’t smile unless he feels like it, though habit is hard to break by sheer will. He talks and lets his voice sing freely without much concern. Granted some people thought he was crazy by the look of it, but others actually sang along or danced as he passed by another red light. Drunks mostly, it was 9PM and the sun was finally setting. He was impressed by how early their ‘party’ had begun.

What would Phil think about him dancing, winking and singing with strangers? He’d think Dan had reached the point, which isn’t at all wrong, Dan mused.

Seconds after, he found himself walking into a mind-numbingly loud nightclub. He went straight to the bar, of course. But just as he wanted to call the bartender a stranger sat next to him, shaking his shoulders to grab his attention.

“Hey there! What brings you here?” The beautiful stranger said, and he doesn’t have to be gay to see how beautiful they were.

“Uhh, why do you ask?”

“Oh! Its just that, you’re wearing normal clothes is all. Not something people typically wear somewhere as wild as this!”

He rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Sorry, did I offend you?” They said, levelling Dan with a sly smile as they—quite obviously—eyed him up from head to bottom. Literally.

Dan wasn’t offended, actually. He was wearing normal sweatpants and his hobo-shirt under his Dementor coal black coat. Hardly party material, and certainly not the kind of thing you’d wear to impress anybody. And this was it, this is where people come to impress under the blessings of alcohol and poor judgement.

The beautiful stranger was called Sam. Sam was a regular, someone who apparently took ‘YOLO’ much more hardcore than Dan ever would. Though his eyes told Dan he shouldn’t trust him altogether, not that he would trust his own judgement now of all times.

Then, the casual talk turned slightly flirtatious. Sam chuckled and brushed a stray slightly curly hair strand from Dan’s forehead, and often leaned close enough to let their forearms ever so lightly touch. Dan wasn’t buzzed, but it didn’t bother him. He chose to not let it bother him for the time being.

Dan watched as the people behind him danced and raved freshly into the young night still, tempted to dive into the crowd. They didn't care about the things that kept him up at night, he wished he didn't as well. The foam and the lights made them look like they were on a different planet than his. He was too distracted by it to notice the grin that was imprinted onto Sam's face. “Here,” he said. Handing Dan a small paper patch with a smiley face on it. He stared at it, confused at the strange object he received from his new acquaintance. Sam then leaned in closer, allowing all sound to fade into the background. He gently pressed his lips onto Dan’s in a quick peck-like gesture.

“If you take this I promise, all your worries will be gone. It’ll last for 12 hours so, have fun with it!” He said, and he turned around and walked into the rowdy crowd.

He isn’t stupid, Dan knows what LSD is.

He hardly hesitated.

 

* * *

 

It was difficult to express a sensation as magical as that of drugs with coherent words, something Dan realised as soon as he was sober enough to make out the difference between sunlight and street bulbs. It was around 8AM now, and he was—for some reason—laying on the ground against a very familiar giant old tree in a park.

He hardly remembered much, but he knew it was absolutely _wonderful._ Like walking through the Triwizard Maze, except filled with music, lights and sweaty bodies rather than mist and the Dark Lord.

Not that he’d mind Voldemort.

He remembered an explosion of colours, and then making out with someone in a bathroom, or a rollercoaster? He couldn’t tell if they were male or female, and he didn’t mind much.

Everything was fuzzy still, and the sun didn’t help at all. It gave him a headache just thinking about getting up. He could hardly form half bits of information, and he needn’t anything to add to that struggle.

“Dan?” He heard from beside him. “Dan Howell, is that… what happened to you?” They said in horror.

“Huh?” He answered stupidly. He figured it must be the tree’s fault, this isn’t the first time. Yes, definitely the tree.

“Jesus Dan!” The soft familiar voice spoke; he didn’t open his eyes yet though. “Tell me where’s your flat, I’m taking you home!”

“What?” He snapped his eyes completely open (bad mistake) and was blinded by the sight of non other than his tree friend, Nina.

“Dan, I’m taking you back home, I will take no arguments. You look like you were eating drugs!” She said, he chuckled at that.

“I’m fffff-ine, I just accide _n_ nally slept here again.”

“Like HELL you did! Oh my god your eyes are diala— Did you?” She tentatively said, crouching next to him and sliding her chill fingers across his cheeks.

_Click._

He felt his heart sinking, it all came back to him. A black hole was forming in his chest once again.

He needed to go home, he needed to see Phil.

_Phil,_ “Where’s Phil?” He chocked, feeling his eyes tear up and his head starts to throb harshly against his own skull. Common sense was flooding back. He didn’t fully grasp his senses back, and he thought he probably won’t any time soon.

 

* * *

 

**Nina’s POV**

Nina felt like crying.

He looked horrible, Dan was in a worse state than last time. She knew it, she knew this was going to happen! She never expected him to be back here though, it had been weeks! And she was mildly excited when she saw him. She wanted to talk to him, ask him how he was. Maybe drop hints that it’s okay to ask for help. But this… This was just _wrong._

She reached out for his jacket, urging him up and pulling his hood on. She was surprised by how tall he is, but wasn’t intimidated. He looked like a deer being chased by wolves in the woods.

“Keep it on, I don’t want you to get arrested for looking like a drug junkie… or being one.” She said. It was time she had a chat with Phil.

Dan, surprisingly, didn’t argue. Maybe he was still on his ‘trip,’ or maybe he was just tired. _’Don’t be hasty. Maybe he didn’t take any drugs, maybe he’s just hungover from drinking. People do that, they get drunk when stressed. It’s equally bad though.’_

They reached the apartment; it was closer than she thought. Judging by the notifications on Dan’s phone (he showed her on the way) Phil must be on the verge of calling the police, which is bad news for Dan if they decide to take his blood. There is still a chance he ate drugs after all.

She took his keys and practically pushed the man into the building, he was as heavy as he looked. And he was leaning on her through the entire walk. ‘ _It’s too early for this crap_ …’

“Dan?” She head from upstairs. _’Oh boy, here we go…’_

“DAN? _OHMYGOD_ DANNY WHAT—? Who are—?” He looked horrified, could she blame him? His best friend was covered in dust and sweat and sported his curly hair like there’s no tomorrow. His clothes were rugged and his face was too pale and yellow to be healthy. Plus, did she mention he wasn’t exactly on his feet?

“I—I found him in the park, he was sleeping under a tree I always go to. I helped him here.” She said, fidgeting and shifting her legs around. The face of disbelief on Phil was making her uncomfortable.

“Oh dear… Thank you for bringing him, miss?”

“Oh, um, Nina, Nina O’Brian. And, well, you’re welcome. And can we talk please? I mean, you can help him first of course.” She said, sending an apologetic look his way. “But um, this isn’t the first time he was at that park. There’s something you need to hear.” She finished.

Phil looked at her as he finally managed to drag Dan back on his feet, and just stood there silently.

He then sighed.

“Come on, help me walk him up. Tell me after he’s on the bed.”

Lets just say ‘ **he didn’t take it well** ’ is quite the understatement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah sorry for that cliffhanger.. don't worry! I'll be very EXPLICIT on the next chapter on how all that goes.. and well, I can't promise it will get any better.


	4. Bed Sheets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick chapter, since I simply have nothing better to do...

Phil didn’t understand at first. Nina spoke 120 miles per hour about Dan’s depression and how she met him ‘last time’ at the park, but he couldn’t wrap his head around it. What was Dan thinking? Is this why he could hear him shuffling in his bedroom more often? _’Why did I have to learn this from a stranger and not from you? Do you not trust me?’_ He questioned, putting his hands on the ghostly palms of the unconscious boy sleeping on the bed. Nina didn’t need any hints to slow down other than the look of absolute distress evident all over his body. From the constant tapping of his foot and the drumming of his fingers, to the furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. Phil wasn’t taking this very well. Who could blame him, really?

“Why didn’t he tell me…” He said in a hushed tone, mostly to himself. Nina heard that.

“I don’t think he knows its okay to do so.” She replied quite lamely.

“What do you mean? I’m his best friend! Why would it—“ He was cut off.

“It was the same with me, Mister Lester—”

“Phil, it’s Phil.”

“Right, Phil. It was like that when I was facing depression before I met Dan. I’m getting better, and I won’t go into any details, but the thing is the solution was always that I properly talk to my parents and I never did because I thought it wouldn’t matter. And even if it did, it either won’t change a thing, or it will be extremely awkward afterwards. I didn’t want them inside my head if they weren’t gonna do much help you see.

But that was wrong; I realise that now.” She added hastily, peering shyly at the confused man sitting on the bed in front of her.

Silence followed.

Phil continued to stare at the sleeping man besides him. Everything in him was screaming, but it only mildly showed on his face. He noticed how curly Dan’s hair was, and slightly adjusted his fringe back over his eyebrows. Dan leaned into the touch unconsciously and he couldn’t help but smile at how endearing that made him look. Even as it seemed like a whale ate him and spit him out of his blowhole, Dan always somehow managed to be incredibly attractive.

“Phil…” A faint whisper escaped from Dan’s swollen lips. ‘ _Maybe he was nervous before coming here_ …?’ Phil mused.

“Yeah? I’m here, Danny.” He said, and he couldn’t help how loving he sounded like when he said that. He stalked his hands through the brunette’s hair and sighed, a bit pleased that Dan was again leaning into the touch.

“..mm sorry for not.. telling you..” He struggled to speak. _’Is he sleep-talking?’_

“I’m sorry for not being there to listen.” He said, feeling tears building up in his eyes. How could he allow this to happen? They LIVED together! How could he live now knowing his friend is suffering in silence and doesn’t even want his help?

Phil continued watching his every movement. Every breath that came in, every breath that came out, the confused fluttering of his eyelids, the snuggling into the pillow while holding onto the older man’s hands, and everything that illustrated the muscle movements of his neck under the shadow of his coat.

Completely oblivious of Nina’s existence now, he pulled on Dan’s coat and threw the thing disgustingly on the floor. Followed by his dirty socks and—after some debate—his dirty sweatpants and—possibly the only—colourful shirt on his torso. Nina, of course, didn’t look… At all.

Phil then took out pyjamas from Dan’s drawers and proceeded to change him, which is something he never thought he’d have to do the year he became his friend, or ever.

Making him wear his pants was the most awkward thing Phil had ever done, he felt like a pervert if he was being honest. Not that he was _staring_ at the northern regions as he set his friend on his back, unconsciously rising his feet a bit and spreading his legs apart—

_’Bloody hell.’_ He thought, almost slipping out of his mouth. He felt the heat in his cheeks rising, and completely disregarded the idea of changing his very _very_ tight boxers.  They weren’t, not really. But he won’t believe that.

There, Dan now looked slightly more comfortable now that he was out of most of the dirty clothes. He could take a shower when he wakes up. Phil then tucked him in the bed, leaning in and pushing the covers over the younger man’s shoulders. He stared at him, feeling conflicted. Can friends do that? Is it out of line? Dan then yawned, and he couldn’t even care anymore.

He leaned further onto him, and pressed an uncertain, comforting kiss on the other man’s forehead. Dan smiled.

‘ _Huh_ ,’ thought Nina.

‘ _I ship it, I can’t believe I fucking ship it. And perhaps, this is the answer? Well, at least Kelly will be pleased with me joining the club._ ’ Nina mused, feeling quite excited.

This should prove to be a very interesting journey, there’s no way she’d leave them alone _now._


	5. Lights On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait.. Writer's block! I'm totally over it now. Tell me what you think down there!

‘Bedsheets…?’ He shifted under the covers, his attention slowly turning away from his sleep to his surroundings with the not-so-yellow sun peeking into his bedroom window. He had no idea if it was dawn or evening, or how exactly he got to where he was.

He was also wearing pyjamas. ‘ _Disconcerting_ …’

He stretched his muscles, feeling his bones crack at every movement. He moaned a very inappropriate noise.

‘ _Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows_ —‘

“NO,” he exclaimed with a broken voice. The last thing he was going to do was sing Frozen. Claiming irony would sell poorly to anyone that really knew his bullshit. He cringed at the thought of Phil strolling in and…

“…Holy fuck.”

He remembered everything, vividly. Well, beyond the trip.

‘ _Phil actually blamed himself for the whole deal! Lina was there! Or wait, was it Nina? WHO CARES! SHE TOLD HIM_.’ He was panicking and getting angry, **colossal** angry. His face was as red as a stop sign and his hands were quivering in his lap. He wanted to hit something real bad and he was never the violent type. He stood up and took a good look around his room. His windows were closed but not completely, and the sun was still strong enough to seep through the blinds. A much appreciated chilly breeze was coming through the window opening, blessing the man with a shiver that sent him up and about towards his drawers. ‘ _Lets focus on something else okay? Everything will be fine_.’ He reassured himself, choosing to ignore the situation like he always does.

His attire was disgusting, even with the obviously fresh garments. His underwear was the same as yesterday, his skin reeked of dried sweat and his hair was horrendous. He thought it best to take a shower. After he felt refreshed and somewhat back to normal, he let the anger wash over him again.

How could she? Who gave her the right?

Sure, it was his fault he was drugged. And maybe if she hadn’t found him an officer would have sent him straight to jail. But, she _told Phil_ something private about him. She broke their promise!

‘ _She never promised you_.’

“I DON’T CARE!” He said, louder than he intended. He put his hands over his ears and the towel, and tried ruffled his head dry. The thoughts don’t stop taunting him though. He wanted to cry but he hated crying. When did his subconscious become his enemy? He can’t stop his thoughts from attacking him, no matter how hard he shook his wet hair in the towel.

“Dan? Dan! You’re awa— Whats wrong?” He heard a tender voice breaking through his wired attention. The thoughts continued on.

‘ _Phil knows about your pitiful little issues now. What must he think of you? A pathetic loser._ ’

“…It’s nothing…” He winced.

“What? Dan why are you standing like this?” Phil stepped forward, reaching his hand towards Dan’s arm. He then regretted it as Dan viciously slapped his hand away, like it burned him.

“Don’t touch me!” His cheeks were flooded with tears. Red as an alarm, he took a few steps back and breathed heavily.

Phil wasn’t having any of this, it was time he did something good for once.

He quickly stepped closer to his friend, harshly pulling on his wrists into an iron hug. He froze, clearly surprised by how strong and willing Phil was. ‘ _Not this time Dan, not this time_.’ The older man thought while he adjusted his position to put his chin on the taller boy’s shoulder blade.

Dan didn’t know what to do. He did the only thing he can do.

He cried.

Phil pulled him closer, his left hand scanning through Dan’s hair. He soothingly swept his dominant hand between the other boy’s shoulder blades, and just let them slide down his back and rest on the small of his back. He definitely didn’t notice how dangerously close his hand was to Neverland.

‘ _Stop it, you fiend_.’ He scolded himself. Dan was finally trusting him, he doesn’t need to know his best friend is just another weird uncle.

‘ _No, I’m not a weird uncle!_ ’ He corrected, and coughed.

“It’s okay Danny, I’m here. I understand. Maybe I don’t feel that way about it, but I know where you’re coming from. Its fine, things will get better from now on.” He said as he pulled slightly  reluctantly away to look at the boy’s blood-shot eyes. Dan looked away, unconvinced.

“Hey,” he tilted his friend’s head back towards him. “Hey Look at me, I’m here. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll always be there for you Danny.” He said, and he didn’t really care that it sounded cheesy and unintentionally romantic.

Dan chuckled, presumably with disbelief. “Danny? _Really_?” His voice cracked, not that Phil minded. He did sound a little better. “Is that the Phil style of soothing the emotionally unstable? Pretty daft, tbh.”

“Hey! Don’t mock my methods! At least you feel better, right?”

“Right.” He said, smiling with a hint of a blush across his cheeks. Phil must be imagining things. “Thanks mate, uhh, I really needed this.”

Phil reached out for a second hug, allowing his mouth near Dan’s ears. “Danny suits you, by the way. I like it.”

Dan felt a different kind of shiver down his spine, and he had trouble knowing whether it was his neck thing, Phil’s breath against his ears, or the words that came with that breath. Either way, he was definitely blushing now.

“Philly suits you too, better than Brado Lester,” he said and winked.

“Shut up,” Phil said, happy that his friend had stopped crying. He held his hand and dragged him to the kitchen, no more snacks for food. “Lets order Pizza!”

 

* * *

 

Phil filled him in the aftermath of his meeting with Nina. They agreed to meet again, and Phil had suggested that Louise should also be involved as long as Dan’s comfortable with it.

To be honest, Dan wasn’t comfortable with any of this.

They’re apparently refraining from setting a date with a mental health professional—‘ _who are they to decide on that anyway_?’—And focused on getting him better without getting anyone else involved. He thinks it’s a good idea, but he hates that this decision was made without his consent.

So like an absolute control freak, he rejects it.

“Phil, I don’t appreciate having you and a minor decide what to do about my… mood, without fucking asking me!”

Phil shook his head and sighed. “I know, Dan. But if this was as insignificant as a _mood_ , I would have let this go. You’re depressed and I had to hear about it from a _minor_ that didn’t even know you!”

“I’m not—“

“Shut up, Daniel!” He interrupted. “You are, and you’re taking drugs! You can either get help from **me** or from a psychiatrist, your choice. But you ARE getting help whether you like it or not.” He finished.

To use his name at the stretch is pure evil, Phil Lester. And Daniel knew his friend would never budge until things went his way. Just like any Dan versus Phil, it’s all or nothing with him. This was a more real Dan versus Phil, minus the lovely banter and the viewers count. Should he just cave in as always?

“How do you intend to help me, then?” Dan asked as a final resort.

“I’m…” His friend inhaled nervously, clearly not convinced at whatever it was he was about to say. “I’m gonna show you how much your life is worth everything, and how our ultimate destination is just a fact…” He gave him a knowing look, and before Dan could reply, he left the room.

‘ _Great job, Daniel! He’s onto you_.’

Shame was his crown, and anger was his new shiny mithril. Shame because he had reached a new low, and anger because someone ratted him out to the person he cares about the most. He could use his mithril, anger is quite a strong motivator. What is his purpose then? And how is anger going to motivate him?

He paced around in his room, not having purpose and not finding any place for his hands to stay. Trust Phil to ground him then leave him hanging the second after. ‘ _As if he ever could_!’

“Dan! The Pizza’s here!” Phil called, and it all clicked. Pizza! **Normality!** It all bows down to the art of acting. Dan had crafted a plan, a script for a live play. Just as he does with his followers, he’ll make Phil forget. He’ll make the suspicion fade. Dan fucked up the moment he chose to use something as obvious as drugs to numb his feelings. “Subtlety is key, Daniel. Do not forget,” he whispered to himself. No one, _no one_ should have access to what he feels. No one has the right to get involved in his business, and he won’t allow it. This is his downfall, it will happen whether they try to stop it or not. Dan was convinced he’s doomed to this feeling of hollowness and self-pity. Why allow others to watch him wither? Why allow _Phil,_ of all people, to watch him die from the inside out? Questions were his thing, questions make the answers more accessible.

This is not pretty business, and this story will not have a happy ending. ’ _No, it is decided_.’

Dan with the plan, Dlan. “That didn’t work…” he mumbled, giggling at his stupid pun. He raised his head, straightened his hair, and went down to eat with his most esteemed audience.

The show is on, the curtains are out of the way. It is time to eat.


End file.
